


Daily Frustration

by StonyAvengerGirl16 (CharmedBritannia)



Series: A Life of Stiles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Cockblocking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharmedBritannia/pseuds/StonyAvengerGirl16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is cockblocking Stiles. He's sure of it. And Derek's none too pleased either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daily Frustration

\-----

The world was currently cockblocking Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale.

 

Let's start from the beginning, shall we?

\-----

It was _supposed_ to be a day for just the two of them. Seriously. They both had the day off. They had agreed to put off all assignments until the next day. And Derek had kindly told his sibling and friends to stay the hell away, as did Stiles. So they should have been left to their own devices, right?

 

Wrong.

 

They were at Derek's place, where Stile's had been spending more and more time. Cora had gone out with some girlfriends, so they had the house to themselves. They were taking full advantage of it, too. The love-seat was now unofficially-but-still-damn-officially theirs, mostly because they had been caught in many the compromising positions on it. So even if they were assuming their favored position during movie nights, Derek sitting up, Stiles straddled in his lap or to the side,  no one dared try to sit down in fear of biological and territorial repercussions (Derek was a cuddler, and refused to have anyone near him while doing so).

 

So they had been sitting around, watching Netflix and snacking, when Stiles' had started shifting. Derek mentally accused Stiles of doing it on purpose, but he could never prove it. It could very well be Stiles inability to sit still. But it always happened when he was already on the last thread of his tolerance, so he's sticking to his theory.

 

Anyway.

 

Stiles had started doing that shifting motion that never failed to rub _just the right way_ over Derek's clothed member. And it was like they were linked; whenever Derek was aroused, Stiles was aroused, and then _usually_ sex happened.

 

But.

 

They had just been getting to the good part. Stiles was making those wonderful little noises in the back of his throat that he denies that he makes, and Derek was answering them with groans of his own. Since they were already in a prime position, all Derek had to do was roll his hips, and Stiles, who was currently straddling him, would writhe and pant and roll downwards. Hands were everywhere, shirts were lost, and Stiles had his hand down the front of Derek's pants, cupping his member so nicely-

 

And then the fucking door opened.

 

Immediately, their little session ended, and they scrambled to make themselves somewhat decent. Cora stomped in, looking pissed off. She took one look at them, raised an eyebrow, and turned towards the stairs.

 

"One of the girls was being a bitch and ruined the night. I'm going to bed. No sex noises."

 

Derek growled under his breath while Stiles just groaned.

\-----

Then they were at Stile's place. They had just finished dinner, and cleaning up. The whole night, there had been a thrum of energy, bouncing back and forth between them. The last dish had just been put away when Derek caged Stiles in against the counter; hands on either side of his hips. Stiles responded by throwing his arms around his shoulders, and attacking his mouth. Between open-mouthed kisses, Derek had somehow managed to haul Stiles up by his thighs onto the countertop. Stiles yelped, but that turned into a long, drawn out sigh, and him arching upwards towards Derek. His face was buried in his neck, leaving a trail of marks. They had stripped down to their boxers, and were so, so, _so close_ to the main event.

 

Then the fire alarm went off.

 

Stiles shrieked in surprise, and Derek felt like crushing the thing in his fist. But they got dressed nonetheless, and Stiles had to restrain Derek from beating the shit out of the drunk guy who had pulled the alarm by accident.

\-------

 

Then they were at the campus library. It had been about a week-and-a-half since they had actually gotten to the actual sex, and they were both pretty grumpy and sexually frustrated. So when Stiles had plopped down on his lap while he was studying in the library, he thanked god that he sat in a secluded place, because he had _no_ intention of stopping this time.

 

Hands were roaming, but they didn't even make it to the truly filthy kissing before a book literally fell on Derek's head. Stiles hurried to assess the mark, and Derek just clutched his head, cursing those damn law dictionaries for being so fucking heavy. A girl scurried from the other side, apologizing profusely for being so clumsy. And then she must have eyed Derek a _little_ too long, and twirled her hair a _bit_ to flirtatiously, because Stiles pretty much did the human equivalent of baring hiss teeth and hissing. And Derek knew personally that even though he didn't look very threatening, Stiles had an arsenal of bitch-faces that rivaled his own, and sounds to go with them.

 

He would never sneak baking chocolate ever again.

 

The girl got the hint, and scurried off with another apology over her shoulder. Stiles asked if it hurt badly, and Derek refrained from biting back that only his dick hurt from being restrained in these fucking jeans.

 

But his head _did_ hurt too. A lot.

\------

So Stiles and Derek had been getting cockblocked. Constantly. Whether it was Scott looking for a textbook, Cora bitching about sex in the house, or public decency, _something_ always managed to get in the way. And if Stiles was frustrated, he knew Derek was downright _pissed._  So really, Stiles should have known it would end this way. Everything ended this way.

 

With his complete and utter mortification.

\-------

They were back at Derek's, in his bedroom this time. Derek was a man on a mission this time, and Stiles had no complaints. He really, _really_ needed to get Derek naked. Like, right now. So he had rolled them (or Derek had let himself be rolled, man was like a rock), and was working furiously on getting Derek's sweats off. It was very hard to focus on doing so, when the man had sat up, and was biting and nibbling at his neck like a mad person. Stiles had managed ( _fucking finally)_ to get the damn sweats off, and whined high in his throat when Derek grabbed his hips and just started _rutting._

 

"Come _on,_ Derek!"

"Fuck, Stiles. It's been what? Three weeks?"

 

All he could manage was a frantic nod.

 

"Too long. I'd do this every day if I could. Morning, afternoon, and night. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

 

Stiles couldn't even respond, too busy trying not to cum as quick as he did when he was fifteen.

 

And then the knock came.

 

Stiles didn't even have time to whine before Derek had held him down by the hips and _roared at the door._

 

_"Get the fuck lost."_

"Look, I-"

_"Cora. I. Do not give. A fuck. If you do not leave in one second, I will severely injure you."_

 

There was silence on the other end of the door, no doubt in Stiles' mind that Cora was still there, the Hale blood running through her veins making her more stubborn than an ox. He was about to say as much, when Derek picked up right where he left off. Vigorously. He wanted to say that there were others in the house. He wanted to say that they could hear everything. He had about a million things he _could have said,_ but all that really came out were strangled, moaned, whined, and screamed versions of curse words, 'please', and Derek's name. Derek wasn't very eloquent either, his vocabulary reduced to moans and growls of dirty promises and Stiles' name, as well.

 

Once he was done roaring at Cora, he had returned his attention to Stiles with a vengeance. They were flipped again, and next thing he knew, Derek had a hand around his cock and it was _glorious._ He could have cried. Despite his best efforts, he came with a shout after a few firm tugs and twists. Derek leaned close to his ear.

 

_"If you think I'm done with you, you're dead wrong."_

 

Just the tone he used was enough to arouse Stiles again.

 

It had really been too long, and he was very horny, alright? Jeez.

 

Suddenly had a very urgent need to put his mouth on Derek's dick. He pushed Derek away a little, and Derek was confused for a moment before he felt the first wet swipe from base to tip. It took all of his willpower not to just thrust into his mouth, and he was sure he tore the sheets when Stiles swallowed him down. Every slide up and down, in and out, and lick of the tip brought him closer and closer to the edge, until he had to yank himself away from his mouth before he lost control. Stiles just shimmied back up to his previous place, and wrapped his legs around Derek's waist, and pulled him into a filthy kiss.

 

Once Stile's was prepared (he was so aroused that it didn't take long), Derek wasted no time. Stile's lost count of how many rounds they went through, and how long they went at it. All he knew was that when he fell into bed after the last round, he was so satisfied that he could have floated away.

\--------

When they stumbled down for breakfast the next morning, everyone looked absolutely scarred.  

 

Stiles could not give any less fucks.

 

Because apparently, having almost a month's worth of sexual frustration fucked out of you left you too satisfied and boneless to give a shit about _anything._ And Derek just looked like a smug motherfucker, but also visibly more relaxed.

 

But hey, the cockblocking almost went away entirely, so that was a plus.

\------

 


End file.
